Like Glass
by Roschelle Templar
Summary: For years, Siegfried and Tristan's lives had been shaped by what they had lost. The trick was not allowing loss to define them.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 **Author's Note** : This fic is a Father's Day themed challenge and will take place at three different points in Siegfried and Tristan's time line. This first chapter is pre-canon. Siegfried is twenty-seven and had recently had Tristan, who is eleven, move in with him.

* * *

"Tristan, what are you doing in my room?"

Siegfried watched with narrowed eyes as his little brother gasped and leapt to his feet. He had just gotten back from a farrowing that had taken almost two hours over at Alan Morris' tiny farm and was ready to take a quick bath and then relax until supper. However, he had been surprised by the sight of Tristan sitting on the edge of his bed, holding something onto his lap. Something which he had scrambled to conceal.

"Siegfried, I, um…um…." Tristan coughed and looked away. "I was trying to find you. That's right. Mr. Alistair wanted me to remind you about checking out those sheep at Nelson's place."

Siegfried snorted. "Tristan, you know very well that Alistair reminded me about that at breakfast this morning. My memory might be notoriously unreliable, but it hasn't deteriorated quite that far."

"Oh no, no, I wasn't, um, I wasn't saying that you were…you know…."

"Tristan, what are you hiding?" Siegfried said, motioning at his little brother's arms which were hitched behind his back. He took a step toward him with Tristan taking a corresponding step backward.

"Hiding? Me?" Tristan all but squeaked. "What do you mean, hiding?"

Siegfried let out an exasperated sigh. "What have you got behind you there? You've obviously got something in your hands. Come on, now, out with it."

"I don't know what you mean, Siegfried," Tristan said, punctuating his words with shaky laughter.

By this point, Siegfried had reached the end of his patience. "Tristan, show me your hands. Now."

Tristan gulped, but remained still. Then Siegfried happened to notice a slight movement in his brother's shoulders. Seconds later, Tristan thrust his hands in front of him, waggling his fingers to emphasize that they were empty.

"See? Nothing there," Tristan said before putting his most ingratiating smile on his face.

Siegfried frowned. "Have you finished stacking that firewood that I asked you to take care of today?"

Tristan slapped his forehead with his palm. "That's right, I knew I forgot something. I'll go do it now. Thanks for reminding me, Siegfried."

Tristan rushed out of the room, the sound of his footsteps clamoring down the stairs. Once he was gone, Siegfried studied the spot where his brother had stood. He knew that Tristan was hiding something. But what was it and where did it go?

Siegfried moved closer to the bed. His little brother had been standing in front of the nightstand. As far as he could tell though, nothing was missing or had been added. He was just about to give up when finally noticed the one thing that was different: one of the framed pictures he had sitting there was now lying face down. Siegfried frowned again and picked the picture up, his features softening when he saw what it was.

It was a photograph of himself as a teenager with Mother and Father on either side of him. The three of them were sitting together on a large boulder in a field.

Siegfried sat down on the bed, still studying the picture in his hands. Ever since Father had died in the Great War there had been little said about him in the Farnon household. When they got the news, Mother retreated to her own private world to mourn, leaving Siegfried to cope with the loss of his father on his own while also taking care of Tristan who was a toddler at the time. She finally emerged from her grieving and returned to her maternal responsibilities when Siegfried left for college.

Siegfried traced the tip of his index finger around the faces in the picture. He was certain that Mother continued to shy away from any mention of Father after he had left home. As for Siegfried, he preferred his visits with Mother and Tristan to be happy ones, something he wasn't sure would happen if he brought up his memories of Father in Mother's presence.

Consequently, Tristan grew up with scant knowledge of his own father. All he had was a couple of photographs Mother had chosen to display and the occasional odd mention of him when friends of the family came to visit. Thus, it wasn't surprising that, at eleven years old, Tristan had many questions and had become anxious for some answers.

Siegfried let out a sigh. Even after all these years, Father's sudden death made his heart ache. There was so much he wished he could have asked him, told him, shared with him. Especially now that he had chosen to raise Tristan on his own.

However, at that moment, Siegfried knew he had a responsibility to Tristan, one that he was determined to see through.

* * *

A week later, Siegfried managed to get an afternoon off from work and invited Tristan to a ride around the countryside. They took a picnic basket with drinks and sandwiches and had stopped at a sweet shop to get a bag of candy to share.

Then Siegfried drove to the outskirts of the village to a road wound through fells of green which were outlined with stone walls. He pulled the car off the road so they could sit near a river and eat their lunch on the grass. Once they were done, they walked upward along a hill until they reached a stone bridge with wide ledges that they could sit on.

The two of them sat down and watched the river flow across the field. Siegfried retrieved the paper bag of candy from his pocket and pulled out a pair of lemon sherberts. He offered them to Tristan who immediately popped both of them into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge around his grin. Siegfried chuckled at the sight and gave himself one of the pink allsorts to chew on while they sat together in silence.

Then he opened the picnic basket he had carried with him again and pulled out the photograph from his nightstand, the one he had caught Tristan with before. As soon as his little brother saw it, the smile disappeared from his face.

"Siegfried, I…I'm sorry. I, I didn't mean…."

"I never told you about this picture, did I?" Siegfried interrupted. Tristan shook his head, and Siegfried leaned back and swallowed the liquorice in his mouth.

"We were on holiday," he continued. "I was fifteen at the time, and for the last couple of years Father was finally able to take more vacations with us. Before that, he had been hopelessly busy at the laboratory and often couldn't take off a whole weekend let alone an actual vacation. He knew that Mother had been feeling rather run down and had wanted to visit some friends near Coverdale. So Father and I decided that the two of us would go camping while she spent some time with them on her own. At least, that's what we tried to do."

"Tried to do?" Tristan repeated, clearly intrigued. Siegfried smiled and handed him another sherbert.

"Our first day there, the heavens opened up and it poured," Siegfried said. "Father and I tried to tough it out in our tent, but it the rain would not stop. And there must have been a small tear in the seams of our tent that created a slow leak because the next morning, we woke up to find a tiny stream carrying our toiletries away. Father said it had been the last straw for him when he saw his razor floating toward the entrance of the tent."

Tristan giggled and Siegfried laughed with him for a moment before going back to his story.

"So we packed up and checked into the nearest pub a couple of miles away. We let Mother know where we were and decided to let her continue her visit with her friends on her own while we stayed there in case it ever cleared up. Father and I spent hours playing games together: chess, Bezique, dominoes, backgammon. We talked while we played and Father shared stories I had never heard before from his childhood."

Siegfried took out another pair of allsorts from the bag, giving one of them to Tristan and taking the other for himself. "It wasn't the sort of holiday we had imagined at all, and yet, it's still one of my favorites."

Tristan listened eagerly, every once in while looking down at the photograph Siegfried was holding before returning his gaze to his elder brother's face.

Siegfried tapped the frame with his finger. "This photograph was taken on the last day of our vacation. After a week of endless rain, the sun finally came out and we decided to reunite with Mother so we could spend the day together. Her friends joined us and we went for a walk in the fields which is where they took this picture of us."

He handed it over to Tristan who held it in his lap while he stared at the smiling faces. Siegfried scooted closer to him.

"Mother thought it was silly to have our picture taken there when we barely spent any of our time out on those fells," Siegfried added. "But Father insisted. He said that it didn't matter because we were enjoying ourselves out there that day so we should go ahead and take a picture to help us remember it. Then he said that all the disappointments we had over the rain and not being able to camp would fade with time. The laughter and the hours we spent among family and friends, however, would always remain."

Siegfried paused and gave Tristan a chocolate before continuing. "And you know, he was exactly right. Whenever I look at that picture and remember our vacation, I always find myself dwelling on the fun we had and how I had learned so much about Father over those few days. And I remember how, less than a week after we returned, we got the news that Mother was expecting. That you, Tristan, would soon be joining us."

Tristan looked up at him for a moment, a grin on his face, before looking down at the picture again. Siegfried watched his little brother silently for several moments and wondered what he was thinking about. He was just about to ask when Tristan suddenly spoke.

"Siegfried…thank you."

Siegfried blinked. "What for?"

Tristan looked up at him. "Mother, she…. I tried to ask her about a picture I saw of Father in her bedroom once. But then she started to cry and I tried to tell her that I was sorry, but…."

"Tristan, you did nothing wrong," Siegfried assured him. He placed an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "It's just that Father passing so suddenly…it simply broke her heart. And I'm afraid, it's unlikely that she'll ever let go of that loss. So it would be best to wait until she chooses to bring Father up herself before discussing him with her."

Siegfried squeezed Tristan's shoulder. "However, I want you to know that you can come to me if you ever have any questions about Father or just want to talk about him. And I will make sure to tell you anything I can."

"But Siegfried, I…." Tristan turned his face away. "Don't you miss him too?"

Siegfried sighed, his eyes becoming wistful. "Yes I do. Very much so. But he was your father too, Tristan, and you deserve the chance to get to know him even if it's only through the memories I have."

Tristan nodded and looked at the picture for another moment before handing it back to Siegfried who returned it to the picnic basket. He continued to stare into his lap, his fingers fidgeting across his thighs.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me now?" Siegfried said.

Tristan coughed. "Well, um, I…I was just wondering if…if he…."

"Yes? Go on, Tristan," Siegfried said. "Whatever question you have, it's perfectly all right, little brother."

Tristan cleared his throat, but it did little good as his voice came out in a quiet squeak anyway.

"Would Father…would he have liked me?"

Although he did his best to hide it, the melancholic glint in Siegfried's eyes grew brighter. He was pleased that Tristan trusted him with a question that had clearly been difficult to ask. However, he also could not escape the overwhelming pity and regret his little brother's plaintive inquiry had stirred in his heart.

Thankfully, he had brought just the thing for this situation.

Siegfried reached into the picnic basket again and pulled out a parcel wrapped in brown paper from the bottom of it. He handed it to Tristan who accepted it with a confused expression.

Siegfried made sure to smile at him. "Go on. Open it. It's just something I thought you should have."

Tristan's brows knit together as he tore away the paper. Inside the box was another framed photograph. This one was a picture of Father sitting in a chair with a baby in his arms. The baby was looking up at Father with a large, toothless smile on his face and had closed his tiny fingers around the edge of Father's hand. Meanwhile, Father was looking down at the child in his arms, his expression one of complete contentment.

Tristan lifted the picture out of the box and held it up toward Siegfried with a questioning glance.

Siegfried nodded at him. "Yes, that is you in the picture with him. You were almost a year old when that was taken. Uncle Edgar and his wife Minuet were visiting us around Christmas, and he took numerous pictures, some of which he gave to us."

Tristan sat the picture back into his lap and looked down at it while Siegfried continued.

"Father used to sit with you almost every night. You see, no matter how busy he was or how long his day had been, he always had a smile and a joyful word for his family and he would make sure to put aside some time for me. And for you too, Tristan. He used to say that you were a surprise he never imagined having, but also one he couldn't live without."

Siegfried drew him closer, "So while I can't tell you everything about the contents of Father's mind, I am sure that he loved you, Tristan and that he still loves you from where he is now. Whatever uncertainties you may have, never let that be one of them. And you should also know that he dearly wished for you to be happy."

Tristan looked up at him with watery eyes, and for a few seconds, Siegfried wondered if he had said something wrong. Then Tristan sat the photo onto the lid of the picnic basket and wrapped his arms around Siegfried's waist. Siegfried raised his arm up to Tristan's shoulders, pressing him close against him.

"I wish I knew him," Tristan mumbled with a sniff. "I wish I could remember him."

Siegfried nodded. "I wish you could too, little brother. I'm sorry that you can't. You don't know how many times I have longed for things to be different so that he could be the one raising you now as he was far more capable than I shall ever be."

Tristan tightened his grip on him. "But I'm happy here, Brother. Honest, I am."

Siegfried's face fell and he rubbed Tristan's back. "Tristan, I…You do know that you have a home and that it's secure. You know that, don't you? You don't have to…. What I mean is that, you're my brother and you will always have a place with me."

Tristan let him go and looked up at him, his expression surprisingly solemn.

"I know," he said quietly. "I just wanted to make sure you knew too. About what I said."

Siegfried beamed at him and gave Tristan's shoulder another firm pat. He offered the bag of candy again, and Tristan fished out a barley sweet, placing it between his cheek and jaw so he could suck on it for a while.

Then he turned back toward the fields, swinging his legs back and forth. Siegfried took his pipe out of his pocket and placed some tobacco into the bowl.

"Siegfried?"

"Yes Tristan?"

"Tell me another story about you and Father. Did you ever get to go camping together?"

Siegfried laughed and lit his pipe. "Not very often, I'm afraid, but a few times we did." He blew out the flame at the tip of his match and placed the pipe into his mouth. Then, he put his arm back around Tristan's shoulders.

"There was one time in particular. It was when I was about the age you are now. The two of us had just set up our tent when we ran across the oddest stray dog I have ever met…."

Tristan smiled and leaned against Siegfried as he listened while also watching some clouds drift over the green fields that stretch out forever in front of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 **Author's Note** : This chapter takes place during _Big Steps and Little Uns_ (Episode 3.14).

* * *

Tristan Farnon studied himself in his bedroom mirror with a grin. He always enjoyed wearing his best suit as he thought it made him look particularly dashing. This time, however, he had an occasion to wear it that didn't involve impressing female company. Tonight, Siegfried was treating him to dinner, a rare event indeed worthy of dressing up.

He brushed what might have been a last imaginary speck of fluff off his jacket and was just about to walk out the door when a photograph on his bed-stand caught his eye. A photograph that had been a present from his brother years ago.

Tristan paused and picked up the picture of Father and of himself as an infant. He gazed at the smile on Father's face and wondered if he could have ever dreamed a day like this would come: a day when both of his sons were fully qualified veterinary surgeons and were living and working together as they had done for years.

Tristan grinned. The memory of Siegfried's reaction to the news that he was finally qualified was one he would cherish forever. Siegfried did not usually believe in being effusive in his praise of him, but his elder brother had been absolutely giddy over Tristan's achievement. Up to that moment, it'd been easy to forget how invested Siegfried truly was in his success aside from the usual acerbic lectures about wasting time and money. The warmth in Siegfried's eyes after he had scanned that all-important letter had been an eye-opening reminder of the deeper motives for Siegfried's pestering and nagging.

Now, they were getting ready for dinner at the Reniston to celebrate. Tristan would have been perfectly happy going to the Drovers, but Siegfried dismissed that suggestion as "far too frivolous for such a momentous occasion." Tristan hadn't minded that at all. A free dinner of lobster and champagne suited him just fine too. Especially since Siegfried was paying for it.

Of course, there was no way he'd tell Siegfried this, at least not tonight, but the dinner and the drinks were just pleasant extras to him. They could not compete with the satisfaction he felt over becoming a qualified vet at last. It had taken years longer than he had planned and there were times when Tristan wasn't entire sure it would ever happen. But now, he had fulfilled the dream he carried with him ever since he was a child watching his big brother work with animals.

So why did he also feel a sense of gloom creeping up on him?

Tristan continued to stare at the picture in his hands as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He still had regrets that he had no memories of Father, but it didn't haunt him anymore the way it had when he was a child. Instead, he had filled that void with plenty of happy memories of growing up around Darrowby while living with his brother. Of visiting farms, playing with children in the village, wandering around miles of beautiful countryside and hours spent with Siegfried which included hearing many stories about Father.

Granted, there were also lots of memories of Siegfried yelling at him, teasing him and giving him tedious, dirty chores. His brother often said those jobs were "object lessons" although a lot of them were most certainly Siegfried deciding on a whim to pick on him. Usually, Tristan didn't see any point to dwelling on those memories…except when he caught up in a fit of righteous indignation due to his brother's latest daft outburst. Those memories, as frustrating as they could be, never felt important enough to ruin his usual cheer.

Still, something about being reminded of Father right now and thinking about what he had missed out on due to Father's sudden passing stirred something inside him. Something beyond the wistful thoughts of what could have been.

It was the distant buzz of an airplane flying by that finally put a shape to Tristan's feelings of dread.

Father had died in the last war. A war he hadn't had to join due to his age, his valuable profession as a research chemist, and his recently expanded family. And yet, he still signed up, apparently driven by a need to help put things right in the world in whatever small way that he could.

And now, Siegfried was about to do the same. Leave his life as a vet even though experienced vets were in far more demand right now than soldiers in their forties. Leave Darrowby, the home he had always wanted and leave his friends and family whom he loved. All because his elder brother believed in putting things right in the world.

Just like Father. Their father. The father Siegfried lost and Tristan would never really know.

But now, what of his brother? The elder brother who had done his best to step into the role Father had left behind. The brother who had also been his mentor, his ally, his friend, and in the last few years, his partner in professional life.

What of Siegfried who, more than anyone else, had been his family?

Suddenly, a very familiar bellow rang out through the hallway.

"Tristan! Tristaaan! Where have you got to now?"

Seconds later, Siegfried appeared in the room. He was dressed in his navy pinstripe suit and already had his white scarf draped around his neck.

"There you are. Aren't you ready yet? James has already agreed to man the fort for a while, but that doesn't mean we should be out all night. Come on, get a move on, little brother."

"Right," Tristan said, a trace of a smile on his lips. However, he found himself unable to move, his fingers tightening around the edges of the picture frame.

Siegfried's brow crinkled in confusion. Then he glanced down at the picture in Tristan's lap. "What have you got there?"

Tristan stood up. "Oh, um, this? Nothing, I was just…." He started to put the photograph back, but Siegfried snatched it from his hand. Tristan sighed while Siegfried studied it.

"Yes," Siegfried said quietly. "Yes, I can see why you…." Siegfried looked up and carefully placed the picture onto the empty space on the nightstand. "Father would have been very proud of you right now, Tristan. Very proud indeed."

"Like you?" Tristan asked. "I mean, when you got into veterinary college."

Siegfried looked away, an odd smile on his face. "No, I, um…unfortunately, I never had the chance to tell him. You see, I had only just found out when I…when we received the news."

"Oh." Tristan looked down at the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. He knew that Siegfried hadn't minded the question, but he felt guilty that he had asked it just the same.

"But I'm certain that, if Father was here, he'd approve of a celebration for this occasion," Siegfried hastened to add. "So let's be on our way, little brother. After all, we do have reservations to consider."

"Right," Tristan said again. Once more, however, he found himself frozen where he was. The dread that had only just started to form a few moments ago had increased tenfold.

The creases in Siegfried's brow deepened, impatience dancing in his eyes. However, he showed remarkable restraint by not allowing that irascibility to surface. Instead, he gave Tristan another smile and placed his hands gently onto his younger brother's shoulders.

"Now, don't you worry, Tristan," he assured him. "Everything will be all right. Especially now that you're qualified. You'll look after things here, and James and I will be back as soon as we all take care of this madness from Germany. Then, I promise, everything will go back to normal."

Tristan had tried to smile, but found that he couldn't. Not this time. For weeks, he had worked to convince Helen, and Mrs. Hall and even himself that what Siegfried just said was the truth. That his elder brother would be fine. That Siegfried was indestructible and there was nothing to worry about.

However, this time, all of that felt like a lie. Anger, unexpected and sudden, exploded inside Tristan. He yanked himself away from Siegfried's hold on him.

"You can't promise that!" he snapped. "You don't know what will happen. No one knows. Not you or James or Helen or, or…or anyone."

Siegfried scowled at him. "Tristan…."

"Did Father promise you that?" Tristan continued, undeterred. "Did he tell you and Mother that everything would be all right and that he'd be back soon and that everything would be just like it was? But it didn't happen. Father never came back. And now you…you…."

Tristan sank back down onto the bed, dropping his head into his hands. He regretted those words almost as soon as he had said them. Siegfried was just trying to make him feel better, to maybe take at least the edge off the worry. And how had he repaid Siegfried's efforts? By snapping at him and purposely bringing up what was sure to be painful memories.

The sound of footsteps leaving the room accentuated how heavy his heart felt. He had botched things. Again. And on a night that was supposed to be a happy one.

Tristan let out a bitter snort. It wasn't exactly a good omen for how the next chapter of his professional life would go. Especially now that there would be no one around to have his back if anything did go wrong. How on Earth could Siegfried ever trust him with looking after the practice while he and James were gone?

His shoulders slumped down even more. His comparing Siegfried to Father hadn't really been fair or even entirely accurate. Although he had been missing a parent when he was growing up, Tristan never liked to think of Siegfried as a stand-in father. Not really. Even though he had been his guardian and was now his boss, Tristan always saw him first as a brother who he felt on equal standing with. This was even truer as Tristan grew into adulthood and began his veterinary studies. It was then that they could do things like go for a drink together, commiserate over difficult clients and even pull the occasional prank on each other to let off steam.

No, he much preferred Siegfried as a brother even if he was immensely grateful that Siegfried had also cared for him like a father would. However, that realization did not make his feelings any easier to cope with. It didn't matter if he could be losing a father or a brother or someone who was a complex mix of both. The thought of Siegfried dying ate away at his heart.

"Tristan."

Tristan gulped and jerked his head up to see Siegfried standing in front of him, holding out a tumbler that contained a finger of whiskey.

"Siegfried, I…."

Siegfried moved the tumbler closer to Tristan's face and gave it a little shake. "Go on, take it."

Tristan accepted the glass gratefully, taking a large sip from it. Siegfried walked over to Tristan's desk and turned the chair around so he could sit with the back facing him. He lifted his own tumbler to his lips and took a drink before speaking.

"Tristan…of course there is no way for any of us to know what will happen or how this war will unfold. Though, I am still certain that our side will win in the end. However, you of all people should already know that there are no guarantees in life even without a war to contend with."

Siegfried leaned forward to rest against the back of the chair, propping his arms at the top. "We've both seen it in our work plenty of times. We've seen animals with only minor ailments who end up dying and we've seen animals who have all the odds stacked against their survival and yet somehow they pull through."

"Certainly makes for plenty of embarrassing moments for us," Tristan said finally able to laugh a little.

"Yes, I suppose it does," Siegfried chuckled in response. Then he shook himself. "Now, stop that, Tristan. You know exactly what I mean. The point is that, no matter what there will always be uncertainties in life. Tomorrow is never promised. Still, as vets we try our best to treat the animals in our care. We don't just leave their fates to Providence. Because we have made the decision to do everything in our power to preserve life and alleviate suffering."

Siegfried finished what was in his glass and got up from the chair. Then he sat down at the foot of the bed.

"Of course I can't guarantee that we'll all be reunited once the war is over," he continued. "But I can still promise that I'll do everything in my power to come back to you."

Tristan stared into his glass. He felt terribly guilty over his outburst. Siegfried was the one who was marching off to the front lines, not him. His elder brother was the one who was putting his life at risk and walking away from everything he cherished. What right did he have to focus on his own fears when Siegfried was the one paying the higher price? Like his brother often did.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his forearm, and looked over to see Siegfried gazing at him, his expression inscrutable. However, when their eyes met, Tristan could finally see what his brother wasn't saying. Siegfried knew. He understood. He remembered what it was like to be a young man who was about to start a new chapter of his life and who was also facing the potential loss of someone who he looked up to, relied on and loved dearly.

Siegfried knew plenty about what Tristan was going through right now. And more importantly, he was not diminishing it.

Tristan's eyes stung. Whatever else happened in his life, he would always remember this moment with his brother. Right then, he felt closer to Siegfried than he had in years. Or perhaps ever. It was a moment that would always be a stark reminder of why it was so easy for him to brush off his brother's irascibility, hypocrisy and unpredictability.

There was so much Tristan wanted to say. So very much. However, he knew he would have to settle for the things that he could find the words for.

"Siegfried….are you sure? I mean about me keeping an eye on the practice."

Siegfried gave Tristan's arm a light squeeze and then leaned back. "Tristan, I always knew that a time like this could happen. Or that, perhaps, the day would come when you'd start a practice of your own."

"No!" Tristan blurted out. "I mean, well, I just, you know…." He took another large sip from his glass. "I had hoped we could be in a practice together. Like we used to talk about."

Siegfried gave him a warm smile which Tristan couldn't help but grin back at.

"Of course, little brother," he said. "Nevertheless, there was always the possibility that circumstances could arise which made it necessary for you to run the practice for a time. But this is part of what I trained you for. I'm sure if you look back on the practical experience I've given you, you'll see that you've been prepared for this contingency."

Tristan blinked in surprise as Siegfried's word sunk in and realization slowly blossomed in his brain. He thought about all those times he'd been forced to sit in on Market Day. All those frustrating evenings spent trying to wade through the practice's paperwork with Siegfried. All those tedious chores of checking inventories, cleaning, and answering the telephone. All the times when Siegfried dragged him along to his rounds or made him assist him in the surgery. Suddenly, Tristan saw all of it in a different light and the result was astounding.

Granted, Siegfried had never told him his intent for putting Tristan through all of these things. Nor could Tristan believe that all of the annoying jobs he had been given were meant to be instructive. Still, when looking at all of it as a whole, he could see how Siegfried had guided him along so that he could rise up to these new responsibilities. With a degree of nervousness, yes, but also without feeling hopeless or completely lost.

Tristan shook his head. Leave it to Siegfried to use such haphazard and whimsical methods to get him to this point. Despite that, Tristan was also aware once again of how he had learned far more working alongside his brother than he had ever realized.

"I know you are equal to the task, Tristan," Siegfried continued. "James knows it too. That's why we're counting on you. Farnon blood will out, little brother. So I know you'll not let us down." He picked up his glass from his lap, a smirk on his lips. "At least, I doubt you'll make a total shambles of it anyway."

"Oh thank you," Tristan said with a smirk. He gulped down what was left in his tumbler. "And I thought we agreed to drop the 'little brother' bit."

"Oh yes, of course," Siegfried said, putting a finger to his chin. "That we did. But now, this is your night, Tristan. Let's go enjoy it."

The smirk on Tristan's face transitioned into a cheerful grin. "All right. And just so you know now, Siegfried, I have every intention of ordering champagne. The good stuff, mind you."

Siegfried looked pained for a second, but quickly regained his jovial mood. "Yes, I suppose the occasion does call for champagne. After all, how many times in a man's life does he get to witness a true miracle like your becoming qualified?"

Tristan snorted, making sure to give Siegfried his best sarcastic gaze while Siegfried gathered up the glasses into one of his hands. Once he was done, he gave Tristan's shoulder a light slap.

"Come on, litt…Tristan. If we hurry, we might still be able to make it on time."

Tristan nodded following Siegfried out of the room. As he fell in step behind his elder brother, Tristan contemplated the fact that there was one thing that Siegfried got wrong.

Tonight wasn't just his night. It never was. The truth was, it belonged to both of them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 **Author's Note:** This chapter takes place not long before the events in the 1983 Christmas Special, _The Lord God Made Them All_.

* * *

While standing on the edge of the train platform, Siegfried was almost able to forget how many years had gone by.

His currently surroundings certainly made it easy to do. Standing near the tracks was old Mr. Scott smoking his pipe. Scott had been the station-master ever since Siegfried could remember. Across from him was an iron bench that was covered in crackling black paint. Siegfried was a little surprised that it hadn't been taken away and used for scrap metal. Maybe it had been forgotten about or maybe whoever was in charge of such things thought it would be an excessive step. Either way, Siegfried was glad that another piece of the Darrowby he knew before the war still remained. Swinging above him was the same wooden sign that had splintered along the bottom during a torrential thunderstorm back in '34. None of the major storms since had had any effect on it.

Still, the errand that had brought him here and the feelings of longing, of anticipation and excitement, and of growing impatience were enough to remind him of how he had lost five years of his life to this last war.

Five years. Five years away from Darrowby, from the green hills and heather-covered fells of the Dales. Five years without doing the work he had studied for, trained for and imagined doing for the rest of his life. Five years away from the farmers, the clients, and the friends he had made and continued to cherish.

Five years since he had last seen his brother.

Siegfried consulted his pocket-watch and then shoved it back into his vest with a frustrated huff. The train should have been here by now. The last thing he wanted to do was extend this separation for even a few minutes longer. He stared down the length of the tracks, a scowl on his face.

Of course, while he and Tristan were separated physically, they hadn't been completely cut off from each other. There had been numerous letters sent back and forth between them. Lengthy passages about what Siegfried had seen and experienced along with plenty of advice for his little brother had alternated with Tristan's brief, breezy tales of finding new pubs to visit around the world and the occasional request for an opinion about some aspect of large animal medicine.

Still, letters were never the same as being able to enjoy his little brother's company. Nor could any number of letters ease the worry Siegfried felt whenever Tristan mentioned being transferred to another base or whenever Siegfried heard about the fighting moving closer to wherever Tristan was stationed currently. Granted, Siegfried did have the comfort of knowing that Tristan was a vet, not a soldier, in this terrible war. His little brother would not be expected to take up arms and engage the enemy directly.

However, war often did not respect the boundaries between the battlefield and non-combative spaces. As long as Tristan remained at any military complex while the world was at war, there was always a risk to his safety. Nights spent worrying over Tristan's well-being had made those five years stretch out even further than their natural span.

Even when the war was over and Siegfried had returned to Skeldale, he knew that he wouldn't be able to truly feel like a part of civilian life again until Tristan had been released from the military and had come home as well.

A week ago, the letter that Siegfried had been waiting so anxiously for finally arrived. Tristan had been released and would be coming home by train in a few days.

It hadn't been easy for Siegfried to put aside time to pick up Tristan at the station. He was currently alone in the practice, and it hadn't taken long for the citizens of Darrowby to realize that Siegfried Farnon, their popular and trusted local veterinary, was back in business. It meant plenty of work and plenty of opportunities to fine tune his professional skills again. However, it also meant that he had very little time to himself these days.

Still, Tristan's return was far too important of an event to miss. He asked Ewan Ross to handle any emergencies that came up and persuaded one of the ladies at the local WI to handle answering the phone for the day so he could be here to greet his little brother the moment he got off the train.

Five years. For five years, the war had torn Tristan away from him. Not even the time Siegfried spent at veterinary college had separated him from his little brother for that long. He used most of his spare weekends, holidays, and periods between terms to visit Mother and Tristan. And when it was Tristan's turn to go to college, his little brother almost always spent his free time back in Darrowby, back in his elder brother's home and practice. The time they had spent away from each other usually could be counted in weeks and only occasionally months.

Siegfried's scowl deepened. It had had been easy to tell himself and anyone who cared to listen that he was getting a well-deserved respite from his little brother's childish antics, his lazy habits, and his inappropriate fits of humor. It'd been much harder to actually believe that he had ever wanted this respite.

A rumble along the tracks shook Siegfried out of his reverie. He squinted at the train approaching, his entire attention fixed on its slowing arrival. Eventually, it stopped, and less than a minute later, people began to emerge onto the platform.

Siegfried raised himself up onto the balls of his feet, his head craning back and forth as he searched for his brother within the crowd.

As the seconds ticked by with no sign of Tristan, an irrational dread started to creep in. What if Tristan wasn't on the train? What if something had happened and his little brother wasn't coming home after all?

Siegfried felt his chest tighten. At that moment, he couldn't imagine anything worse than for both of them to make through the war only to have Tristan taken away by some random accident or illness before he could come home. Another couple of minutes passed by without Tristan appearing which only worsened his worry.

He was about to march over and start a search of the train when a lanky figure near the engine caught his eye. Siegfried pushed his way through the crowd and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Tristan maneuvering his duffel bag and suitcase off the train.

Then Siegfried paused and took a long look at his little brother. His first thought was that Tristan looked older. Yes, he still had the same boyish features overall, but lines of maturity had appeared as well. And it wasn't just his physical appearance. Something about his demeanor, the way he carried himself, also bore the mark of years gone by.

Then again that was to be expected. No one, not even someone as feckless and carefree as Tristan could spend years serving his country without it leaving some sort of impression. Still, this was something Siegfried hadn't considered.

Had the war changed Tristan? In some ways, that was inevitable. Siegfried had seen changes in himself which were surely due to the war. Thus, it was bound to be the same for Tristan. However, Siegfried was troubled at the thought that his little brother could have lost some vital part of himself during this war, even though he rarely had any direct contact with the actual battles.

Suddenly, Tristan glanced in his direction. The wide grin, as cheerful and cheeky as ever, made those fears begin to melt away.

Tristan strode over to where Siegfried was standing. The grin on his face was soon mirrored by the smile that appeared on Siegfried's lips.

"Hello Siegfried," he said, sitting his bags onto the platform.

Siegfried moved closer to him. "Tristan…."

For a second, both of them stood there, as if in shock that this moment, the moment when they were reunited, had finally come.

Then, the affection that had swelled up inside Siegfried took over. He reached over and enveloped Tristan into his arms for a firm embrace. Tristan responded with a laugh and a tight hug of his own, his head leaning down onto Siegfried's shoulder.

Siegfried closed his eyes and patted Tristan's back. It hadn't happened again. The pattern of separation and then loss had been broken. Neither of them would have to bear the heartache of losing family to the bloody machinations of war. It was an outcome that Siegfried was deeply grateful to avoid experiencing a second time. He was even more grateful that Tristan would continue to avoid experiencing it at all.

He allowed himself one more firm squeeze before finally letting go and pushing Tristan back so he could get another look at him.

"Tristan."

"What?"

"That…is a ghastly suit. Couldn't you have chosen something else?"

Tristan looked as if he was going to pout, but then his features relaxed into a smirk instead. "It not like we were getting these suits from Savile Row, Siegfried. This was the only one they had in my size."

"So you say," Siegfried said, putting a finger to his chin. "But anyone can see that it's not your size at all, is it? I mean, look at that jacket. The fit is atrocious."

"All right, so it wasn't actually my size, but it was the closest they had," Tristan said.

Siegfried waved a hand at him. "Well, never mind about that. Now that you're back, I can offer you my sound sartorial advice again. And I can see that it's sorely needed."

Tristan snorted at him, but Siegfried ignored it and picked up Tristan's duffel bag while Tristan retrieved his suitcase from the ground.

"Now then, little brother, how about we make a quick trip to Skeldale so we can drop off your things and you can change," Siegfried said. "And then we can stop off at the Drovers for a few rounds."

"Sounds marvelous," Tristan grinned again. "But couldn't we just go straight to the Drovers and worry about changing and dropping off my stuff later? I've had a long journey, you know, and I am feeling rather parched."

"No!" Siegfried barked. "If you think I'll allow my own brother to traipse around Darrowby while wearing that abomination then the war must have truly addled your brain. No, the thing to do is burn that suit as soon as possible to avoid even the smallest chance that someone could think that that is an acceptable fashion choice."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Siegfried…."

"No, my mind is made up," Siegfried said. "Unless you'd rather pay for the drinks yourself, Tristan."

Tristan scowled at him for only a moment before shaking his head. Then a smile appeared on his face and he laughed softly.

Siegfried's eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head to the side. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Nothing," Tristan laughed. "It's just…It's good to see you, Siegfried. And to be back."

Siegfried chuckled and gave Tristan's shoulder a light cuff. "It's good to see you too, little brother. Let's go home."


End file.
